Adieu, to the One Dreaming Awake
by WritingMage
Summary: Regret tastes like bitter yew and salty seawater, and that is all Adrien Agreste can taste in his mouth. (Story includes: Adrien Agreste, Marinette Dupen-Cheng, Luka Couffaine)


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous Ladybug or its characters, just the interpretation and nearly nonexistent plot, which actually doesn't exist. Also: Adrien tastes regret, the bitter of yew and the salt of seawater. In fact, that's all he tastes. Keep that in mind.

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Adrien isn't sure when it happens. One day, the world is as it always is, and then suddenly, he wakes up and everything is wrong. Everything, and Adrien has no idea how to fix it.

As he sits on the lunch bench beside Nino, Adrien calmly stares down at his salad and tries very hard to ignore Marinette's lovestruck look. Despite his best intentions, he looks. Across from him, he sees Marinette and Alya. Distantly, he hears Alya's teasing. Distantly, he registers how Alya jabs at Marinette playfully, how despite her embarrassment Marinette still can't be drawn away from her thoughts. She is, like all artists, consumed by her passions and likes. Unlike him or Alya, she can be completely enthralled. Like his father before his mother left, Marinette is endlessly devoted. She loses herself, seeing beyond reality. Even now, she is captivated completely. Even now as she sits less than a meter away, she is already millions of miles out of reach.

Without noticing it, Adrien feels his hand stretch open and begin reaching upwards. Then it stops. Because in the end, Adrien knows that it doesn't matter if he reaches over. It doesn't matter if he feels her hand inside his. In the end, Marinette will remain far away, and only she can decide to come back. Adrien sighs. Carefully, he takes another bite of his salad.

Glancing up again, Adrien chews slowly, taking in the taste of the spinach and kale, of the dressing. In his mouth, he tastes nothing but bitterness and salt. If he weren't sitting right there, Adrien might have tasted the freshness of the leaves, their crisp texture, the dancing flavors of the dressing but all his mind has time for is Marinette. So of course, all he can taste in his mouth is regret, which is bitter like yew and salty like seawater.

His green eyes take a quick peek at the flushed girl. He notices the dusting of freckles beneath the rosy blush, and he notices how dreamy her eyes look, as though Marinette's seeing stars and galaxies. Adrien notices how she leans forwards, face tucked in her hands, and as she gets closer, he notices her faint smell of flowers and flour and yeast and sugar. And, if he were being truthful, this is not the first time that Adrien noticed these kinds of details about Marinette Dupen-Cheng.

The first time had been during their dance at Chloe's party, but then, he'd mostly noticed how nice it felt to be close to Marinette, to feel the warmth of her beneath his fingers, to feel the soft fabric of her shirt. After he noticed that, he began to notice everything. Her eyes, her hair, her fumbling, her kindness… He began to notice that sometimes she looked at him exactly how she now looks at Luka Couffaine. He began to notice that that look in her eyes came back less and less when she looked at Adrien Agreste.

Pointedly, Adrien makes sure to never turn back to see a blue-haired boy who stares fixedly at the blue-eyed girl sitting across from Adrien. One last time, Adrien glances up to see Marinette, and inside his chest, he feels his heart racing. He feels sweat at his collar. He feels something like hope blooming in his chest. Because he knows this look she has on today, the lovestruck look. He's known it well for years, since collège . It was his then, but it's his no longer. Quickly, Adrien looks back to his limp salad.

Anything is better than seeing what is no longer there.

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 **Original Posting Date:** April 5, 2018

 **Prompt:** N/A

 **Word Count:** 600

 **Note:** All good things come in threes, but sometimes not really. Also, if seven is the lucky number, what is six? Just not lucky enough, like a certain Black Cat. :/ Ah, what can I say? I got inspired, and I got back from vacation! Expect updates on my other stories over the weekend! Also, before I forget! Yew tastes bitter and symbolizes sorrow, death, the life cycle, and rebirth. Also, who is the one dreaming awake? Hmmm, food for thought ;) Wish I'd written longer, it feels rushed and underdeveloped, but alas, time is a commodity and not a privilege. Lastly, this is ONLY a ONE-SHOT ;))))


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